“Nice cat!” There was a young man with blond hair walking slowly past their house on the way to his van. He was jingling the keys in his hand, and he smiled at Tia and Christy. “Is she yours? Does she always run and meet you like that?”
Tia smiled back. She loved it when people admired Milly. “Yes,” she said proudly.
“She’s beautiful. What is she, a Bengal?”
“Yes, she’s four months old,” Tia said.
The man smiled again and walked over to his blue van, which was parked further up the road.
Mum hurried up behind them. “Who was that you were talking to?” she asked.
“Oh – well, he was asking about Milly,” Tia said, frowning. She hadn’t really thought about it, but the man was a stranger, of course. “He seemed nice…” she added.
“No, he wasn’t,” Christy said firmly. “I didn’t like him.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Christy,” Tia muttered, as Mum started to tell her off for chatting to people she didn’t know.
“You were just coming, Mum. You were almost with us,” Tia muttered. But she had a horrible feeling now that Mum and Christy were right. She shouldn’t have spoken to him. She sighed. “I suppose we shouldn’t tell people Milly’s a Bengal, should we? In case someone tries to steal her.”
Mum put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sure that won’t happen, Tia. But next time, just say that I’m the person to ask, and come and get me! Come on, let’s get in the house. Milly’s probably having a fit by now.”
Tia had hoped that Milly would get used to staying inside, but the kitten still took every chance she could to sneak out. And she moved so fast she was very good at it.
One lunchtime, when Mum was just heading out for work, Milly slipped round her legs, aiming for the open door. But Mum swooped down and caught her just before she could escape.
“No, sweetie. I know you don’t like staying inside, but it’s to keep you safe.” Mum sighed. “Hopefully the police will catch those awful cat thieves soon. It’s been weeks. You stay there, and I’ll be back later with Tia and Christy.”
Crossly, Milly prowled back into the living room and jumped up on to the windowsill, watching Mum hurry away down the street. She hated it when they all went out. There was nothing to do. The cat on the other side of the road wasn’t even sitting in his window for her to look at.
And she was hungry. She uncurled herself, jumped down and wandered out into the kitchen to see if there was some food left in her bowl. There wasn’t.
Milly stalked over to the cat flap and glared at it. She didn’t understand why it didn’t work any more. It would let her back in from the garden, but now it would never let her out. She pawed at it, just in case, but it still didn’t work. It rattled though, which was a good noise, so Milly pawed it again. This time, the catflap shook, and Milly got a delicious whiff of fresh garden air as the flap opened inwards a little way. Then it clicked shut again.
Milly stared at it. It had definitely been a bit open. She banged at it harder this time, and it flew open a little more. Enough for her to stick her paw in and stop it clicking closed.
Purring with excitement, the kitten wriggled her other paw into the gap and then poked her nose in too, flipping the cat flap all the way up, so she could jump out. She stared back at it triumphantly as she stood on the doorstep, and then she pranced out into the garden.
It was sunny and warm, and everything smelled good. Milly padded across the patio, sniffing here and there, and glancing up at the birds that circled and twittered overhead.
It was the smell of the wheelie bins that made her go down the side path. She was hungry, and although the smell wasn’t quite right, there was definitely food in there somewhere. She pattered curiously down the path and sniffed around the bottom of the bins. She was just considering trying to scramble up on to the top of one when next-door’s dog, Max, came galloping down the garden on his side of the fence, barking his head off.
Milly shot down the path like a rocket, her tail fluffing up. She remembered Max, all big teeth and flying ears. She wasn’t sure if he could get through the fence, but she wasn’t going to wait around to find out. She bounded into the front garden and jumped up on to the wall. She then licked her paws furiously, swiping them over her ears. She felt hot and bothered and cross, and washing helped – a little.
The sun was warm, and slowly her tail smoothed down again. Milly’s eyes half-closed as she watched the cars going past.
One of the cars stopped, a blue van that she was sure she had seen before. A young man with blond hair got out. Milly pricked up her ears. She had seen him before. He always stopped to admire her in the window. She pretended not to notice the man as he walked up the street, and she gave him a haughty look as he made friendly kissy noises at her.
But she couldn’t hold out for long.
She padded gracefully down the wall to let the man stroke her ears and tickle her under the chin.
Milly didn’t even mind when he picked her up – she liked to be cuddled.
But then he locked his hand tightly around the scruff of her neck and hurried down the road with her. He opened the back of his blue van and stuffed her into a cat carrier.
And then he drove away while Milly howled and scrabbled and fought to get out.
“Oh! Milly isn’t in the window,” Tia said, sounding surprised.
“Maybe she heard Christy singing and went to the door already,” Mum suggested. “I bet the whole street heard her.”
But there was no kitten rubbing lovingly around their ankles when Mum opened the front door.
Tia hurried into the kitchen to see if Milly was waiting by her food bowl. There was no sign of her at all. “Where is she?” she asked anxiously. “Did you shut her in upstairs, Mum?”
“No… She was definitely getting under my feet when I left,” Mum said. “Unless she managed to shut herself in somewhere. Go and check, you two.”
Tia and Christy raced upstairs, opening every door and calling frantically. Tia even looked in their wardrobe.
“Milly won’t be in there!” Christy told her, but Tia shook her head.
“You never know. Remember when she got shut in the kitchen cupboard?”
“She only went in there because that’s where the bag of cat food is,” Christy pointed out.
But all the cupboards were empty, and they hurried back downstairs.
Mum was starting to get worried. “I’ve looked everywhere down here,” she murmured. “You didn’t unlock the cat flap, did you?”
Tia shook her head, glancing at the cat flap. Then she frowned. “Hey, it’s not closed properly.” She crouched down next to it. It was definitely open, just a little – the flap balanced against the frame. Tia gulped. “She’s gone out.”
“But it was locked,” Mum protested. “How can she have gone out?”
“Look.” Tia pointed. “It’s still locked, but the lock’s only a bit of plastic, Mum. It stops the door opening out, but Milly’s so clever, she didn’t open it outwards – she pulled it in. And then she squeezed under the flap.”
Tia unlocked the back door and ran out into the garden. “Milly! Milly!” she called, hoping to see a toffee-gold kitten come darting through the grass. But all she heard was Max, whining next door.
“She’s gone…” Tia whispered, her heart thumping so hard it almost hurt. “Someone’s taken her.” She knew that it was silly – Milly could be in Mr Jackson’s garden again, chasing the fish. Or messing about in that garden with all the brambles a few doors down. There was nothing to say that she’d been catnapped. But somehow Tia knew. She just knew.